


All For You

by megank49



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-08 22:30:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6876538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megank49/pseuds/megank49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam makes Dean a special dinner, but Dean never shows. How can Dean make it up to him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Okay, Sam just be cool, I tell myself. If he says no, it’s no big deal. I sigh. It is a big deal. I’ve been building up to this night for years. Maybe if he says no it’s like a sign from God that this would never work. What if he laughs at me? Except, why would he? I am not telling him anything, at least not yet.

  
“Sam, I can hear your brain from over here.” Dean says while buttoning up his suit jacket.

  
“Huh?” Smooth, Sam. A gangly arm whacks into the chair I am passing. “Oh, I was wondering if you would want to hang out tonight.” I say casually, rubbing the newly forming bruise.

  
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll be back from these interviews by six.” Dean places his wallet in his back pocket and phone in his front.

  
I nod my head in consent, but inside my heart has skipped several beats. Dean said yes, this is really happening.

  
“Sam, don’t be stupid while I’m gone.” Dean ruffles my hair and I punch his arm as he shuts and locks the door behind him. I glance at the clock. Five hours to get everything ready.

  
After making sure the Impala is long gone I race to our room. We are staying in one of dad’s friend’s cabins. It actually has bedrooms, one of which I enter to pull a lump of cash out from a hidden pocket in my backpack.

  
I slide my sneakers on and lock the door after myself. The nearest grocery store is a twenty-minute walk away, but the sun is shining and it feels good outside so I don’t mind. The air has the edge of a bite that says it will be cold tonight, but for now a tee shirt and jeans is warm enough.

  
I buy burgers, bacon, three kinds of cheese, buns, potatoes, seasoning, apple pie, and even salad stuff. I also buy a tablecloth, candles, and roses. I might as well go all out.

  
The walk back is easier because there is no backing out. I am really going to tell Dean how I feel. I just pray he doesn’t laugh at me. I think that would hurt worse than him saying nothing at all.

  
When I get back, I lay everything out on the counter and turn on the radio. I did my research and found out 89.6 was playing the best love hits through the ages. The station is currently playing Wherever You Will Go by The Calling.

  
“I’ll go wherever you will go. Way up high or down low, I’ll go wherever you will go.” I sing along.

  
I start with the potatoes, cutting each one and seasoning it before laying it on the cookie sheet. While those are in the oven, I fashion each burger and set them in the fridge. I still have fifteen minutes before they need to be cooked. During this time I set the tablecloth out and candles. I place the silverware on the table as well. I sign my letter, Sam Winchester, and place it and the roses at Dean’s spot.

  
By the time the burgers are crafted and arranged on their respective plates the clock in the kitchen is blinking 6:00 exactly.

  
6:07: Dean said six roughly though so there is no need to get concerned.

  
6:23 I head outside and sit on the front step and try to call him. Voicemail.

  
6:30: I cover the food and stick it in the fridge. I can always reheat it.

  
6:47 I have reedited my letter and found a grammatical error. I spend the next five minutes rewriting it.

  
7:02: I turn the radio off because no one should get to be happy if I’m not.

  
7:10: I walk down to the entrance of the cabin’s road.

  
7:47: I arrive back at the cabin and Dean still isn’t here.

  
8:02: I pour the lettuce into a bowl and drizzle honey mustard on it. Dean won’t miss the salad and I am starving.

  
8:14: I hope Dean is okay.

  
8:29: Dad called and said he will hopefully be coming home tomorrow. Dean better come home today.

  
8:37: The sun is setting and the sky looks beautiful. I stretch out under the nearest pine tree and watch.

  
8:41: I am back under the tree, but with a hoodie and blanket this time. The stars are exceedingly bright and I understand why people include them in love songs.

  
9:00: It’s been three hours exactly. Should I be worried? I am. What if Dean is hurt? I send him a text asking when he will be back.

  
9:03: I got a text back. Dean said don’t wait up and we can hang out tomorrow.

  
9:06: Made it a whole three minutes without crying.

  
9:31: I go back inside and see the table all set. I blow out the candles.

  
9:42: I should clean up the table, but I don’t think I’m ready to admit he isn’t coming.

  
9:53: I am going to shower, read, and go to bed. Screw Dean.


	2. Chapter 2

I feel my phone buzz. “Hold on, Sarah.” I open the message from Sam, asking where I am. Shit, we were going to hang out tonight. I feel a moment of guilt, but brush it off. Sam and I can hang out any day. In fact, we hang out every day. I tell him not to wait up and that we can do something tomorrow.

  
“Who was that?” Sarah purrs, sliding a hand down my chest.

  
“Just my kid brother. He wanted to hang out tonight.”

  
“Do you need to go?” Her hand pulls back slightly.

  
“Hell no.” I put her hand back on my chest.  
……  
By the time I pull the impala out of Sarah’s driveway, it is past one am. I click the radio on and unroll the windows, enjoying the cool breeze. The radio is playing some love song marathon. Sam would like it.

  
Sam. My perfect little brother. God, I hope he isn’t pissed about me skipping out on his evening plans. It could go either way. I’ll make it up to him tomorrow with letting him pick a movie and candy.

  
When I get back to the cabin all the lights are off. Figures Sam would be asleep. I unlock the door and quietly creep in.

  
After ensuring the door is relocked and the salt lines are in tact, I open the fridge looking for food. Sam made burgers? Huh. I take one out and seeing as there is no microwave here, decide to eat it cold. Still tastes fantastic.

  
I pull out a chair at the table and my arm brushes against something soft. I squint in the darkness and see flowers. Roses to be exact. Since when did Sam have girls over? I push them to the side when a piece of paper flutters to the ground. I pick it up, but cannot see what it says. I flick the light above the stove on and place my butt on the counter.

  
“Dear Dean” Is how the letter starts. Sam wrote me a letter? I skip to the bottom and see his scrawling signature, even though the handwriting tells me it’s his.

  
“Dear Dean,  
I can’t believe I am actually doing this. I hope you like your dinner and don’t punch me in the face after this. Or laugh at me. We can always be brothers.”

  
Oh God, Sam what did you do? I rack my brain, but cannot think of anything different about Sam lately.

  
“I love you. I love your laugh and the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. I love your strength and they way you can take down anything in your way. I love the way you protect me (even though I don’t need it). I love how your hair looks messy in the morning and how you cannot function till you get coffee. I love how intelligent you are and how you seem to know how to do everything. I love your confidence and your smooth manner. I love you, all of you.”

  
Well now I feel like shit. Sam made me this dinner and I didn’t even show up. And Sam loves me? That is something I never would’ve guessed.

  
“I hope you love me too. It’s okay if you don’t. I mean, at least you got a free meal out of this. Just please still be my brother. Anyways, Dean you are perfect to me. I know you don’t agree, but you are.  
Love,  
Sam Winchester”

  
I sit for a few more minutes on the counter, burger long forgotten beside me. My heart is racing where it has fallen on the floor. Sam. I need to get to Sam.

  
I hop down and walk back to our bedroom. The room is dark, but I can see Sam’s form curled up on the bed. I can tell he is sleeping by his breathing.

  
I sit down and gently touch his shoulder. “Sam, wake up.”

  
I hear a grunt and see Sam’s eyes flutter open. I turn on the bedside lamp to see him better. Once I see Sam’s face, I wish I hadn’t. His eyes are red along with his cheeks and I can see he is trying to feign anger to cover his hurt.

  
“Go away.”

  
“Sammy, I’m sorry.” I try.

He turns away from me in the bed. “Just go away.”

  
“Sam, please, let me explain.”

  
Sam sits up and his anger is real now. “Explain? You want to explain? I made you a romantic dinner where I was going to confess how I felt, but you never showed. Which hurt. But to make it even worse, you were off fucking some girl! You didn’t just forget me, you made it clear where I stand.” Sam is seething by the end of his rant.

  
“Sam, I wasn’t-“

  
“I can smell her perfume.”

  
Jeez, I am not some whore. “Her name was Sarah.”

  
Sam’s face drops. “Thanks, that made it so much better.”

  
“And Sam, don’t you dare for a second think that anyone in this world comes before you.”

  
Sam sighs. “Don’t lie to me. I don’t need your pity.” With that, Sam rolls back over and away from me.

  
“It’s not pity. Sam, I have cared for you since you were born. At the hospital, after your birth, mom let me hold you. And you know what I said?” Sam doesn’t move or even indicate he heard me. “I said that boy’s mine. Mom thought it was funny and as a kid I didn’t know why she was laughing. I knew it then as sure as I know it now.”

  
“That’s nice, Dean.” Sam whispers.

  
“What do you want me to say? Sammy, I cannot write some beautiful love note like you. I don’t have that way with words. Okay?” I look at Sam and can still feel the hurt pouring out of him. “I’ll try okay?” I take a deep breath. “Sam, it makes me feel special that I am the only one who can call you Sammy. I love when you are thinking, you make this face where everything scrunches up and I just wanna kiss you. I always want to kiss you. God, you are beautiful. Even with those gangly arms you still get me excited.”

  
“Dean!” Sam squeaks out and I can see his ears going pink.

  
“Look at me.” Sam rolls onto his back slowly. I lie down beside him and press our foreheads together. “Can I kiss you?”

  
“I don’t know, can you?” Sam lets out a little laugh.

  
“You little shit.”

  
“Wow Dean, you really know how to woe a guy.”

  
“So I’ve been told.”

  
“Why do I even like you?”

  
“Let me go get that letter and I’ll tell you why.”

  
“Dean.” Sam suddenly sounds unsure.

  
“No, hey I loved it. Really. I know we don’t have sharing and caring session around the dinner table every night, but I appreciate you being vulnerable with me.” I push a lock of hair back behind his ear.

  
“Will you, will you be that way with me?” Sam’s voice is small.

  
“I’d do anything for you.”

  
“Then kiss me.”

  
And I do. Our lips meet and I can tell Sam has no idea what he is doing. His lips are pursed together and he just keeps mashing them up against mine. I love it. I push my tongue against his lips and they slowly part. As my tongue enters his mouth my hands tangle in his hair.

  
Sam pulls back, breathing heavy. “Dean?”

  
Does he regret this? I hope not. “Yeah?”

  
“I’m sorry I suck at this.” He gives me a small smile.

  
“You aren’t that bad. Just means you need more practice.” I reply as I press our lips together again. “And I promise to make this night up to you. Cause I know you are still hurting.”

  
“Dean?”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“Can you just hold me?”

  
“Forever, Sam. Forever.” I wrap my body around his and I feel some of the tension leave Sam and for the first time in a long time, I feel happy and content.


End file.
